Shades of Black
by freakily obsessed Yassen fan
Summary: When Yassen is set the task of killing a wealthy businessman, the last thing he expects is another man going after his target. But as the target proves harder to kill than anticipated, the two men must work together. Wolf Yassen. NOT SLASH! R&R please!
1. Target

**Wooo! new story!! Sorry it took so long! I hope you enjoy, please R&R!!**

"Don't move," Yassen hissed, twisting viciously. The man tried to pull away, but Yassen wrenched him back and he gasped in pain. "I said, don't move." He snarled, pushing his captive against the wall. The man twisted before falling still, his breath coming in short bursts as he glared at Yassen out of the corner of his eye.

"What do you want?" he spat angrily.

"Information," Yassen said simply. He felt the man stiffen and frowned slightly.

"What sort of information?" he rasped.

"I need the location of Daniel Skinner," Yassen replied, his voice soft and deadly.

"I already said that I don't know where he is," the man exclaimed, then froze. Yassen did the same, suddenly alert and tense.

"Who did you say that to?" he asked slowly, slipping his free hand down to the gun at his hip.

"No one!" his terrified yelp was as good as a confession. Yassen pulled him away from the wall slightly, and then slammed him into it. His head jerked forwards, slamming his face into the solid brick. Blood flowed freely from his nose as Yassen pulled him back.

"Shall we try again?" He asked. "Who did you tell that you didn't know where he was?" he reinforced his words with a quick pull on the arm that he had twisted behind his back.

"I don't know his name," the man replied thickly, spitting blood from his mouth. "He asked me about an hour ago. But he didn't break my bloody nose." Yassen shrugged.

"Tell me where he is. Skinner, I mean, not the other man who asked, I can find him myself."

"I said I don't know."

"Yes, and we both know that you're lying. I don't particularly want to have to break anything else of yours, but I will if I need to." The man was silent for a few seconds before sighing and giving Yassen a few brief directions, culminating in a room number.

"Thank you," Yassen said, releasing his arm and stepping back. "I hope for your sake that you told me the truth." The man nodded, massaging his wrist gently and flexing his fingers in a slightly experimental way. Yassen left him to it, turning away and walking quickly around the corner and out onto the main road.

He kept his hand on the butt of his gun; he was more disturbed than he had let on about the fact that someone else was asking about Skinner. But from what the man had said, the other questioner hadn't had any success, but it wouldn't pay to assume that he was alone in the pursuit of his target.

He walked back to the flat that SCORPIA owned slowly, glancing from side to side all the way, certain that he was being watched. He slipped in through the door, locking it securely behind him, and then raced to the window, peering around the frame, he saw a fit looking man with dark, watchful eyes standing on the far side of the street. He looked more like a soldier than a spy.

After a few moments, he turned and walked away, contriving to look casual, but there was a natural wariness about him that overruled any attempt to appear relaxed.

Yassen watched him out of sight before turning away from the window again. He knew that he had seen the man before, the one who had been following him, but the question was, where? He sighed and sat down at the table, pulling a piece of paper and a pen towards him and writing out all that he could remember of the directions he had been given. There was a microphone pinned to the inside of the jacket he was wearing but he refused to use it to find out what was said. It took a while, but he eventually had a complete set of directions laid out on the paper.

Glancing out of the window, he saw that the sun was already starting to set, turning from blinding white to a gentler orangey-red. He looked again at the sheet of paper in his hand. It would only take him about twenty minutes to walk there; it was in the dodgy end of the town and there was no way he was going to leave his brand new Aston Martin unattended there for more than a microsecond.

Deciding that it would be best to go in now, while he had the element of surprise, he grabbed a dark coat from the hook behind the front door and ducked out into the dusk.

He kept to the narrow alleyways that ran parallel to the high street, trying to stay out of sight as much as possible. He ducked out into the main road briefly as a gang of youths appeared from around the corner of a building, not because he was scared, but because bodies would arouse suspicion.

He walked fast, but not quick enough to attract attention. In a little under twenty minutes, he stopped outside an old, broken down hotel and looked around. No one was in sight and, taking care not to make any noise, he climbed quickly up the metal fire escape and in through the door that led in to the first floor.

He made his way slowly along the corridor, his footsteps muffled slightly by the thin carpet stretched over the floorboards. Keeping his eyes fixed on the room numbers stuck haphazardly to the doors, he turned a corner and stopped dead.

The man who had followed him earlier was standing outside the door he wanted, gun drawn and one hand resting on the door handle. He had one ear pressed against the flimsy chipboard door and his eyes were closed tightly, his face screwed up in concentration. Yassen pulled his gun from the holster silently and took a few steps forward, bringing it up to shoulder height.

"Shhh," The man at the door hissed, opening an eye and glaring at Yassen, who had stopped again, arm frozen in shock. "He's not in there." the man said a few seconds later, stepping back from the door.

"Who…?" Yassen couldn't get the words out, nothing like this had happened before.

"Who am I?" Yassen nodded slowly. "You don't need my real name, call me Wolf."


	2. Trap

**Hiya! Sorry for the HUGE gap between updates, the desk has been taken up with a large box full of chicks that we bought on Tuesday, but they've been moved now so i can type again! YAY! Anyway, here's chapter two!! Enjoy...**

Yassen froze, the name was somehow familiar. After a few minutes thought, he remembered where he'd heard it before; he had been given a list of new recruits into MI6 and the SAS with real names and code names, Wolf had been ringed in red as potentially dangerous.

"You're Yassen Gregorovich, then?" Wolf asked suddenly, jerking Yassen out of his thoughts.

"What of it?" he replied warily, raising his arm slightly so they were parallel to the floor. Wolf shrugged, slipping his gun back into the holster at his hip.

"Nothing much," he said. "I just wanted to check. Why do you want Skinner?" Yassen hesitated, but decided that he didn't really have anything to lose; he was the one who had the gun easily available.

"He's made too many enemies, and unluckily for him one of them can afford to pay us to get rid of him for them." Yassen wasn't sure why he was telling Wolf this, but some instinct told him that he was talking to a kindred spirit.

"You know about what he's doing in Africa?" Wolf asked, raising an eyebrow. Yassen shrugged.

"I don't really care what he's done. I'm paid to take him out, so that's what I'm going to do. Once he's dead, no one will really care what he did when he was alive."

Wolf felt his eyes widen, surely the man was only joking? He caught Yassen's eye and saw the truth there, he really didn't care. Wolf shuddered and sought for a way to change the subject.

"That worm in the alley told you the same lie as he told me, then?" He asked, frowning in annoyance. Yassen nodded silently, lowering the gun slightly without realising it. "He knows the real location." Wolf said suddenly, pushing forwards, and then stopping short when Yassen cocked the pistol, raising it again. Wolf rolled his eyes.

"I'll do it, there's less at stake for you if you fail. I have my life on the line."

"I figured you might nee- want some help." Wolf said carefully. Yassen bristled and Wolf raised his hands, suddenly realising just how dangerous the man in front of him was.

"I work alone," Yassen said coldly, motioning Wolf forward with his gun. The younger man complied instantly, seeing the complete lack of mercy in the Russian's eyes. Yassen laid a hand on his shoulder once he was within reach, turning him roughly to face the fire exit. "Don't look back." He said, shoving Wolf forward.

He watched emotionlessly as Wolf walked the length of the corridor, part of him wondering why he hadn't killed the SAS soldier. He sighed softly as soon as Wolf had climbed out of sight down the ladder, and turned back, walking quickly to the door. He too pressed his ear against it, not hearing anything on the other side; he took a step back and, gritting his teeth, rammed the door with his shoulder.

The flimsy chipboard gave easily and he staggered a little as he half-fell through the door. The room was empty, as was the tiny adjoining bathroom. Yassen returned to the main room, quickly and thoroughly searching through the drawers and cupboards for anything that would give away his mark's current location. There was nothing in any of the drawers, and he turned away, frustrated.

He searched through the entire room, but found nothing except a few moth-eaten towels and a screwed-up shirt under the bed. Sighing, he straightened up and walked out of the shattered door.

Two strangled, silenced gunshots shattered the silence. Yassen was running for the fire escape before his mind had time to process what was happening. He leapt through the window and raced down the ladder. His eyes flicked sideways and he saw two bodies near to the dead end of the alleyway. He slowed slightly, taking the last few steps at a jog rather than a flat out run. He reached the two still forms on the ground and bent to examine them.

One was the man he had threatened earlier; the neat hole in the centre of his forehead told Yassen that there was no point looking for a pulse and he turned to the other man. It was Wolf. Blood stained his shirt, but a strong pulse jerked his chest. Beneath the blood on his left shoulder, Yassen could see a small hole, with a slightly larger one on the back of his shoulder.

He was half tempted to leave Wolf where he was, but some long-forgotten spark of decency told him that the younger man would probably be shot again if he was left, and unconscious, he couldn't defend himself. Cursing his sudden flash of conscience, Yassen pulled Wolf's shirt off and wrapped it tightly around his wound. He pulled his own jacket off and threw it around Wolf's shoulders. He hesitated for a moment before pulling the gun from Wolf's waistband and tucking it into his own, ensuring that the safety was on, typical of the SAS to leave their weapons armed at all times.

"Wake up," he said, shaking the SAS man roughly, painfully aware of the voices and footsteps getting closer. Wolf stirred and Yassen, growling in annoyance, slapped him, jerking him into consciousness.

"Get up," He said shortly, standing back. Wolf struggled to his feet, gritting his teeth against the pain. His mind raced to fill in the recently vacated piece of memory and he staggered, lifting his gaze to the top of the hotel. It was empty, but he knew that there had been a figure there; with a gun… he'd been watching for Yassen to come out… Yassen. His eyes locked on to the fair-haired Russian and he pulled away from the steadying hand around his elbow.

"Don't bother, walk normally, I'll do the talking." He said. The words sounded distant to Wolf, but he obeyed the firm tug on his wounded arm and followed as Yassen walked to the end of the alley.

"There's a dead man down there!" he exclaimed, injecting fear into his voice. "Someone get help." he added, trying to remember what he'd heard after a killing. The people around him flooded into the alleyway, revolted and curious. Yassen took the opportunity to leave; the more people who saw him, the more likely it was that the Police would be able to identify him.

Wolf was approaching unconsciousness again, half-falling again and again. Yassen found it almost a good thing; he didn't have to worry about Wolf leading MI6 straight to his flat if he was unconscious, or nearly, when he arrived.

It took almost an hour to get back, and the whole way, Yassen was asking himself why he'd helped Wolf; he could have left him to die, but he hadn't. That train of thought led him to another, namely, Who would risk killing people in broad daylight in a public place? Whoever it was, they would probably have power, enough to influence the Police; no one was invisible, but you could become harder to find by hiding behind large amounts of money.

Yassen opened the door to his flat and pushed Wolf down onto the chair facing away from the window. The younger man was pale and his eyelids fluttered as he fought to stay alert. Yassen paced the sitting room, chewing his bottom lip as he thought. The room faded into darkness as the final residue of light slipped out of sight over the horizon.

"I think-" Wolf stopped, panting, as he knocked his arm against the arm of the chair. "I think it was Skinner. The man who shot me, I mean." Yassen stopped, turning to look at him through the darkness.

"How do you know?" He asked.

"I don't, but the other man he shot had followed me to the hotel. He was waiting for something to happen. And it would make sense if Skinner wanted to kill him, he's another witness. Well, he was another witness." Wolf's speech was breathless and punctuated with grunts and gasps of pain.

"Yeah, but why would he risk being seen? If he wanted to stay out of sight, it's surely not a very good idea to go around shooting people in the middle of Bristol." Yassen countered. Wolf shrugged with his right arm.

"I guess he thought it was more important to take care of his enemies. If we were dead, he wouldn't need to stay out of sight." He paused. "Look, are you going to help me with this arm or not? If you are then please get some bandages, if not then tell me where I can get some."

His blunt tone took Yassen by surprise; he had forgotten that Wolf had been shot. He went to the kitchen and pulled out a roll of bandages.

"Use these. Do you want a hand?" He added, pulling his jacket off Wolf. The back was soaked with blood and he winced, tossing it into the bin without another glance.

"You couldn't clean it for me? I would do it myself but I can't see it." Yassen nodded and boiled some water. He poured it into a heavy bowl and dipped a clean towel into the steaming water. Wolf let out an involuntary yell of pain when it first touched his skin, but he was mute after that, trying to ignore the fact that he was trusting an assassin to do this.

"This isn't good," He said, looking away. "If Skinner knows we're after him, he'll hide behind everything he can get his hands on."

"I know," Yassen retorted, pressing a little harder than was really necessary.

"I don't know how you managed it, but you somehow moved just enough to get the bullet to totally miss all the bones in your shoulder. You're lucky; you would have had to go to hospital if it had hit any bones."

"I would've lived." Wolf said sharply, pulling away and wrapping the bandages around his arm as tightly as he could with only one arm. Yassen raised an eyebrow.

"You were unconscious, what were you going to do if he came back? Drool on him?" The words were sharp and Wolf flinched, sensing Yassen's impatience.

"I'll work with you, we can probably kill him," Yassen said slowly, catching hold of the bandage, unwinding it, and winding it again, tightening it until Wolf winced. "That'll hold."

"Thanks. But what if I don't want your help?"

"Then you'll be dead before tomorrow," Yassen replied coldly, his eyes suddenly deadly. "I can't risk you going back to MI6 or the SAS, or whatever, so that's my price. I'll help you, let's face it, you need all the help you can get, and you don't tell anyone about me." Wolf bristled and reached for the gun at his hip, only to find that it was missing. Yassen smiled and pulled it from his waistband. Wolf felt his face harden, knowing he was trapped.

"I'll do it," He said, wondering what the hell he was letting himself in for.

"Good, get some sleep," replied Yassen, turning away and walking from the room.


	3. Trust

**Hi, sorry for the enormous gap between updates!! I've been literally drowning in homework! But here it is, it's a bit short, but i don't know when I'll be able to put the next one up, so it's better than nothing, i guess. Sorry again for the long gap and pathetically short chapter :(  
**

Yassen span Wolf's gun in his hand, sending it spinning in quick circles around his finger, which he had inserted into the trigger guard. It was slightly heavier than his own and sat awkwardly in his hand. Sighing, he walked to the wardrobe and opened the door. He entered the seven digit code to open his solid steel gun cabinet and shoved Wolf's and his gun inside, locking it securely again.

He walked slowly to the door and looked along the hall. He could see Wolf's silhouette against the window; the younger man was standing by the glass, apparently lost in thought. Yassen turned away and tucked the key to the door behind a picture hanging on the wall, trusting the darkness and the weight of the frame to keep it hidden if Wolf were to come in.

He paused, suddenly realising that he was risking his life by taking Wolf in. If the SAS man decided that he wanted out, it would be pretty easy to sneak up and kill Yassen while he slept. Wolf was stockier than Yassen, slightly shorter but much more powerfully built.

Yassen swore softly; if he was going to make sure he was safe, he'd have to pretty much make himself a prisoner in his own house. And while Wolf had contacts and resources that he didn't, it seemed to be too much of a sacrifice.

He watched as Wolf walked back to the sofa and lay down, disappearing into the darkness. Yassen shook his head; Wolf had lost about two or three pints of blood and only had one useable arm, he wasn't a threat. All the same…

He pushed the door shut and wedged a chair under the handle. It wouldn't keep Wolf out if he wanted to get in, but it would give Yassen enough warning to get ready. He might be slimmer than Wolf, but he had infinitely more experience and was much faster. Satisfied that he wasn't in danger of being killed during the night, at least not any more than he was normally, he fell back on the bed and fell asleep fully clothed.

Meanwhile, Wolf rolled off the sofa, holding his wounded arm against his chest, and padded silently to Yassen's door. He heard the bed creak as the Russian lay down. The man had saved his life, but he was still, technically, the enemy. Wolf rolled his eyes, struggling with the conflicting signals from the training and his instincts. The training told him to go in there and eliminate the threat, while his instincts told him that Yassen had saved his life once, and spared it once that day, so he didn't want him dead.

After a brief internal struggle, Wolf stepped away from the door. Instinct had won. He walked back into the sitting room and closed the door, wincing as his arm slid a little over his chest. Lying down on the sofa, he propped his shoulder against the arm and settled down to sleep.

The light pouring in through the window was blinding when he woke. Forgetting the events of the day before, he flung his left arm over his eyes to shield them from the sun. Pain erupted in his shoulder and he let out a yell of shock and hurt. Yassen burst into the room, gun in hand.

"What happened? What did you do?" he asked sharply, taking in the hand clasped onto Wolf's shoulder and the heaving shape of his shoulders as he sucked in huge gasps of air.

"I moved it, what do you think?" Wolf retorted angrily, struggling to his feet and looking Yassen in the eye.

"You'll make it worse, you have to rest it," He said, tucking the gun back into his waistband. "And if you do move it, please don't yell like that again. I thought someone had broken in, or you had been shot again."

"Thanks for the sympathy," Wolf snarled. Yassen shrugged and turned on his heel, striding into the kitchen. Wolf hesitated, and then followed warily, his eyes darting from side to side.

"What do you think I'm going to do? Set a gang of ninjas on you?" Yassen asked sarcastically. It was worth it to see Wolf jump at the sound of his voice. Allowing himself a small smile, Yassen turned back to the bowl of cereal on the worktop. Wolf didn't answer. "You have to trust me; I'm helping you, remember."

"Like you trust me," Wolf said, walking over and helping himself to fruit from the bowl on the table. He glanced at Yassen in time to see the look of surprise leave his eyes.

"Ok, you want me to trust you. I can't promise anything, but I'll give it a shot." He said eventually, he hadn't expected a retort and was pleasantly surprised that he'd got one. He smiled slightly as he finished the cereal, scraping the last of the milk from the bowl and dropping it into the sink

"Same here," Wolf mumbled around a mouthful of apple. Yassen nodded once and leant back against the worktop.

"What should we do now? Skinner could be anywhere," he said. It was almost a test; he already had a plan, but he wanted to see whether Wolf would be able to work out a plan as well.

"He'll go somewhere he knows; somewhere he could see us coming, metaphorically at least." He said slowly.

"Yes, that's what I would do. Where would he go, though?" Wolf raised an eyebrow for a second, but gave the question plenty of thought.

"Well," he said eventually. "He'd probably go to the place he grew up. It could be either Bolton or Exeter. I think he'd go to Exeter, it's easier to hide there than in Bolton. And then he'll probably try to have one or both of us killed. It shouldn't be too difficult for him; he's got almost unlimited resources.

"I… I have a contact in the police who might be able to find out where he is." He volunteered tentatively.

"Can you get in touch with him today?" Yassen asked instantly, pouncing on the statement. Wolf shrugged.

"Possibly, but he's not exactly in the phone book. I'll do my best, though." He added quickly, seeing Yassen's eyes flash impatiently. The Russian nodded slightly, forcing himself to be tolerant. He felt as if he was fighting a losing battle.

Wolf was watching him curiously, his face contorted into a slight frown. Yassen returned the look with a blank stare, his icy eyes boring into the younger man's brown ones until he looked away. Only then did Yassen turn and leave the kitchen, walking purposely to his room. Scarcely able to believe what he was about to do, he unlocked the gun cabinet and pulled out Wolf's gun.

"Here," He said, walking back into the kitchen and tossing it to Wolf. "You wanted me to trust you, so…" His voice trailed into silence and he turned and stared out of the window.

"Thanks," Wolf said, trying to hide the tone of surprise in his voice. He paused, chewing his lip, before deciding that he'd risk it. "You want to give me yours, and I'll give it back?" Yassen smiled slightly, but hid it before he turned. He fixed Wolf with a sceptical gaze and his comment was greeted with silence.

"I guess not," Wolf said, shrugging. "Anyway, what do we do now?"

"You're going to try and find your contact, and I'm going to hack into a few hotels in Exeter, unless he has a house there?" Wolf shrugged.

"I don't think so," he replied.

"Well then, we've got a plan." Yassen said, his eyes suddenly gleaming.

**there you are! Hope you enjoyed it! Please R&R! I might have something to do in Key Skills then... :)**


	4. Travelling

**Hey, me again! Watching Children in Need while writing this, 18 million pounds raised so far!! Anyway, here's the next chapter; it's not got any action in (sorry) but hey, it's an update :) Please R&R!! Oh, and for those who are wondering, this ISN'T going to be slash.  
**

Wolf watched as Yassen walked back into the sitting room, weighing his gun in his hand. He slid it into the waistband of his jeans and followed Yassen, still unsure about why he had given his gun back. He fingered the safety catch, half tempted to shoot the Russian. MI6 would be overjoyed to have Yassen killed. But, though he hated to admit it, he would almost certainly be dead if it wasn't for the Russian. He lifted his hand away.

"You're using the computer?" he asked, making his tone light and more casual than usual. Yassen nodded shortly, leaning against the wall to plug in the charger cable. "Ok, but it'll be harder to find him if I can't use the internet,"

"Use the other one in the kitchen, it's under the table." Yassen replied brusquely, an edge of impatience creeping into his voice again. Wolf backed away quickly and went to find the second laptop.

It was lying on a shelf under the table, the cable coiled on top of it. Wolf pulled it out as quickly as he could with only one useable arm and opened it; it was only a few months old, but clearly hadn't been used for a while, a thin layer of dust coated the keys. Wolf plugged it in, sure that the battery would have died while it was left on the shelf. It loaded quickly and within minutes Wolf was on the internet, frantically trying to find his contact's number.

Meanwhile, Yassen was working with astonishing swiftness. His fingers flashed over the keyboard as he hacked in to the database of the Barcelona Hotel in Exeter. It came up with nothing, as did his searches of other hotels in the area. He hadn't really expected anything, Skinner was panicking but he wasn't stupid.

So it was back to square one on the 'finding Skinner' front. Yassen turned his chair to watch Wolf. The SAS soldier was leaning back in his chair, tapping his fingers on the table. Watching him made Yassen extremely grateful that he didn't live in this flat permanently, Wolf was dangerous; it was in his body language, the relaxed tension in his body. It wasn't surprising that MI6 had head hunted him from the ranks of the SAS. He had accepted straight away, but still worked for the SAS when he wasn't on a mission for MI6.

Yassen tore his thoughts away from MI6 and the government, only to push them back, trying to rediscover the flicker of an idea that had flashed briefly in his mind. After a few minutes, he found it again.

Skinner might not be using his real name, but Yassen knew almost all of his aliases and whichever one his credit cards were registered to, he would almost certainly find them. Spinning quickly back to face his laptop, he started typing again, his fingers dancing over the keys.

Wolf glanced around at the sudden flurry of taps. It looked like Yassen was having a bit of luck, which was more than he was having. MI6 had changed the passwords on all of their sites and he couldn't get into any of them, so he was reduced to sending emails in the hope that someone would pick them up. No one had so far, but Wolf knew that they would check their mail frequently; he just hoped that it would be frequently enough.

A few moments later a message flashed up on the screen and Wolf opened it eagerly. It was short, eleven numbers, and the word "Blunt" written in capitals beneath them. Wolf's eyes widened, he hadn't expected Alan Blunt himself to answer. Glancing guiltily towards Yassen, realising suddenly that MI6 would be able to track him through the computers internet connection, Wolf scribbled the number onto the back of his hand and closed the connection.

"I've got his number," he called through to the other room. Yassen was at his side instantly, peering over his shoulder.

"Good, I might have found a hit on his credit card, or one of them at least. He was in Exeter last night at eight," said Yassen, straightening.

Wolf copied the number out onto a folded sheet of paper and slid it into his pocket.

"What are you doing?" He asked, watching as Yassen seized a suitcase from a cupboard.

"I'm going to Exeter," He said.

"You're not leaving me," said Wolf. It was a statement, not a question.

"If you want to come, fine, but don't get in my way,"

"I won't," Wolf replied, bristling. He hid his emotions, though his body tensed with the effort of holding himself in check. He cursed himself for letting his emotions get the better of him, but the Russian got on his nerves like no one else.

"I don't expect you've got any money?" Yassen said suddenly, poking his head back round the door of his room. Wolf started, but shook his head quickly. "I'll get you some clothes; you can't wear that any more, it's covered in blood."

"Really? I hadn't noticed," Wolf replied, voice dripping with sarcasm. Yassen shot him a superbly disdainful look before vanishing back behind the door frame.

Wolf smirked a little, but Yassen had reminded him of his shoulder and he winced as he focused his mind on it, feeling the pain fully for the first time in over an hour. It was just as bad as it had been when he had first been shot, if not worse, for now a bone-deep ache was setting in, surrounding the wound with a patch of tender, bruised flesh.

Cursing Yassen, he walked into the sitting room and slumped onto the sofa. He glanced sideways and saw a dark stain on the arm. He looked closer and saw that it was blood, his blood. He hadn't realised he had been bleeding overnight.

"Are you coming?" Yassen snapped. Wolf nodded quickly and followed as the Russian as he led the way out of the flat, a heavy bag slung over one shoulder.

"Where are we going?" He asked as they slid into the Aston Martin. Yassen fixed him with a cold, disbelieving stare. "Stupid question," he said, sitting back.

"Just a bit," Yassen replied, but his voice held the barest hint of amusement.

Wolf turned his head away and admired the car. Yassen smiled at the respectful look on Wolf's face, and started the engine. It jolted to life with a dull, powerful roar and a large smile spread over Wolf's face. It was unethical and went against all his principles, but Wolf couldn't deny that being an assassin had certain benefits.

"It was my pay for my last mission," Yassen said, interpreting the look on Wolf's face correctly.

The younger man nodded, glancing sideways at Yassen.

"Button your jacket up, I don't want anyone to see that you're covered in blood when we stop at traffic lights." Yassen said suddenly, keeping his voice low.

Wolf obeyed instantly, pulling the jacket tightly over the finely sculpted muscles of his chest and zipping it up to his chin. Yassen nodded shortly to show he was satisfied, and then pressed his foot onto the accelerator, speeding smoothly past all the other cars and out onto the motorway. Yassen manoeuvred the Aston straight into the outside lane.

Wolf lay his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes, ignoring the dull, throbbing ache that suddenly pushed out from his shoulder as soon as he let his mind relax. All the same, he couldn't suppress a wince as he moved his arm slightly, sending a flare of pain across his shoulder and chest, as well as pushing a dreadful feeling of numbness down his arm. The wound was going to be more trouble than he had thought, not that he'd admit it to Yassen.

Sighing, he let his head fall back again and drifted into an uneasy sleep as Yassen drove them steadily southwards.


	5. Attack

**Hi, me again! here's some action, i loved writing this chapter, it was really fun! Please review!! :D**

Two hours later, Yassen stopped the car.

"This'll do," He said, looking out through the window. Wolf stirred at the sound of his voice and opened his eyes, looking around with a slightly bewildered expression on his face. Yassen placed a hand on his good shoulder and held him still until his expression cleared.

"Thanks," Wolf said, half grateful, and half annoyed at being grateful to Yassen Gregorovich. Yassen removed his hand from Wolf's shoulder and shrugged.

"Your arm's bad enough, I don't want to work with someone who can't use one of their arms at all," He said, apparently anxious not to be seen doing something that helped someone else, at least not without a valid reason. Wolf smiled slightly and looked around again.

"Where are we?" he asked slowly, taking in everything he could through the low-set window.

"Exeter," Replied Yassen unhelpfully. He opened his door and stepped out. Wolf did the same and looked around. They looked very similar, both alert and tense, eyes flashing from place to place as they both searched for traps or a hidden sniper. They nodded with satisfaction at the same time, certain that they weren't being watched or followed.

Yassen pulled his small suitcase from the boot and locked the Aston carefully, slightly worried about it. Wolf was standing a few feet away, watching him and he sighed; the younger man really needed some new clothes, he looked ridiculous with his jacket zipped up so tightly in the remarkably mild winter weather.

"Let's go," He said, leading the way into the hotel. He booked two single rooms for the next few nights, paying with one of the dozen cards that SCORIPIA had given him.

"Couldn't they trace it?" Wolf asked in a whisper as they climbed the stairs.

"Yeah, but it won't lead them anywhere. It's registered to Mark Ward, not me,"

"Who's Mark Ward?"

"No idea, probably just some name SCORPIA made up," replied Yassen, shrugging.

Wolf fell silent after that, unsure about what else to say.

"This is your room, I'm just next door," said Yassen suddenly, stopping abruptly in front of a door and tossing a key to Wolf. "Meet me out here in five minutes; you need to get some new stuff. And hide the gun, it's much too obvious."

With that, he turned and let himself into his room. He nudged the door shut with his heel and dropped the suitcase on the floor. Walking quickly to the window, he leant against the frame, keeping out of sight, but making sure that he could see as much as possible. Some instinct told him that someone was outside, somewhere, but his eyes couldn't find any evidence to back it up. All the same, he couldn't be too careful; stepping back from the window, he opened the suitcase and pulled out a variety of weapons; knives and guns foremost among them, but there were others, including a grenade.

Yassen selected two of the knives, stowing one in his boot and the other in his jacket pocket. He pulled an under-arm holster from one of the side pockets and, having strapped it in place, slid his Beretta 92 inside, leaving the top strap off. Finally he tucked his Socom back into the waistband of his jeans and pulled his jacket on again, allowing it to fall over the bulge.

"Ready to go?" He asked a few minutes later as Wolf opened the door.

"Yeah, I'm good," replied Wolf, zipping his jacket up again. Yassen turned and led the way down the stairs again, Wolf following quickly.

They reached the door, and Yassen turned right, guided by some sort of internal compass.

"You know where you're going?" asked Wolf. Yassen shrugged.

"Sort of," He didn't seem to want to elaborate and Wolf let him keep silent.

Within ten minutes, they had reached the city centre. It was packed with early Christmas shoppers and students.

"Here, take this," Yassen said quietly, "Meet me here in half an hour." He pressed a wedge of notes into Wolf's hand and allowed himself to be swept away by the crowd.

Wolf stood still for a second, before walking the other way. His mind buzzed, he had a Yassen-free half hour. Part of him wanted to go back to MI6 and tell them what he knew. But a larger part said that if he wasn't there to meet Yassen, the Russian would add him to the list of people to kill, and Wolf didn't doubt that he would be able to do it.

Sighing, he headed for the shops.

Meanwhile, Yassen was strolling around the town, apparently totally relaxed. But his eyes never strayed far from the reflection of the man a few yards behind him. He had so far followed Yassen through a low-roofed alley, around the entirety of the cathedral green and half way back up the main road. This was the man who Yassen had sensed watching him, but he hadn't realised who it was, as he was the receptionist at the hotel.

The man didn't appear to be armed, but Yassen didn't want to take any chances and he kept his right hand resting on the butt of the Socom in his belt. The other hand was tucked into the pocket containing the knife.

Yassen kept walking around for the remainder of the time before going to meet Wolf. He was dressed in a new T-shirt and jeans, with a brand new jacket tied round his waist. He carried a couple of other bags in his left hand.

"Hi, ready to go?" he asked as soon as he was within earshot of Yassen.

Yassen nodded once, tensely and Wolf was instantly alert. He fell into step beside Yassen as he started back along the road to their hotel.

"What's wrong?" Wolf asked under his breath, his voice barely audible over the sound of the traffic.

"We're being followed," Yassen replied, equally quietly. Wolf didn't look round, but tensed slightly, sliding his hand into his waistband and closing his fist around the butt of his gun, ready for action.

The two men didn't talk again until they reached the hotel. Yassen pushed the door shut behind them, taking the opportunity to size up the man following them. He was in his mid twenties, dark haired and stocky. His jacket was open and Yassen could see the holster strapped to his shoulder.

"He's armed," he muttered, to Wolf, passing him on the stairs and hurrying up to his room. Wolf followed closely, standing at his shoulder as he pulled his suitcase onto the bed and opened it. He pulled a shirt off the top, revealing such an impressive display of weaponry that Wolf couldn't suppress a small gasp. Yassen passed him a couple of knives and another gun.

"We've got to go," he said shortly.

Wolf nodded and walked quickly to the door. He opened it slightly to look up and down the corridor.

"Is it clear?" Yassen asked, snapping the case shut. Wolf shut the door.

"Not exactly," he said hoarsely. Yassen pushed past him and opened it again.

A volley of bullets whipped past his head from one of the black-clad men advancing along the corridor from both directions.

"They found us, then," Wolf said slowly. Yassen snorted; it was a total understatement. "Now what?"

"I don't know, staying alive would be a good plan though," Wolf nodded.

There was a shout from the other side of the door and Wolf automatically threw himself flat on the floor, pulling Yassen down with him. Both men hit the ground hard, driving the breath from their lungs. But they would have been feeling a lot worse if they had remained standing; a second volley of bullets had ripped through the door, shattering the window and reducing the curtains to shreds.

Yassen pulled himself to his feet and glanced at the door, it was riddled with holes, but the men were still on the wrong side. Wolf stood up too, looking the other way.

"The window, come on," he said, moving towards it, his feet crunching on the broken glass on the carpet. He poked his head out, looking down. They were two storeys up, too far to fall and not end up in hospital, but there was a roof opposite them, one floor down and about five metres away from the wall.

"We need to jump," Wolf said, Yassen nodded and looked out as well.

"You first," he said, standing back and reaching for something his pocket. Wolf pulled a face, and lifted himself up onto the windowsill. He gathered himself to jump… and the door was smashed to the floor, admitting five powerfully built black-clad figures. Yassen dropped the small thing he had taken from his pocket and leapt for the window as they raised their guns. Pushing Wolf out into space, he followed with out a second thought, hurling himself out into space.

Behind him, the room exploded in a blaze of fire and shrapnel.


	6. Counterattack

**Hi, this is me again! Longest chapter yet, 15 pages on Word :D I hope you like it! Please R&R!**

Yassen fell quickly, arms outstretched, reaching desperately for the roof that suddenly seemed much too far away. But it was suddenly rushing up underneath him and he crashed into it, driving all the air from his lungs for the second time in as many minutes. His legs were hanging in space, but his chest had definitely reached the roof, the lances of pain in his chest said as much. His hand was still clutching the handle of his suitcase.

He turned his head and saw Wolf lying beside him, grey faced and panting.

"You alright?" He asked quickly.

"Yeah, fine," Wolf pulled himself up into a sitting position. "What did you do?"

"Used a grenade," Yassen answered. Wolf nodded, looking up at the wreckage of Yassen's room.

"You sure you're ok?" Yassen asked, climbing to his feet and pulling Wolf up beside him.

"I'm fine, I just hit my shoulder when I landed," he replied shortly. Yassen leant forward and pulled Wolf's T-shirt up. Blood was seeping slowly through the bandages, staining the white cloth.

"You opened it up again, you'll probably be alright. Do you want another bandage over the top?" Wolf nodded briefly, turning his head away.

Yassen pulled out another roll of bandages and wrapped it tightly around Wolf's shoulder, holding the first bandage in place.

"There," he said sitting back on his heels, "that should stop the bleeding."

"Thanks," Wolf said quietly. Yassen smiled slightly.

"Come on, we should get down from here," He said, pulling Wolf to his feet again. The younger man swayed, grimacing, before steadying himself and, breathing deeply, nodding to Yassen.

"I'm ready. Let's go," They walked slowly to the back of the roof and picked their way over the slippery tiles to an open window. They climbed through, Wolf needed help to get through; his shoulder had flared up again and was unbelievably sore and tender.

The building they were in now was another hotel, less sumptuous than the one they had booked into, with narrower, darker corridors. All this was to Wolf and Yassen's advantage, as they were able to slip out without being seen.

A few minutes later they both slid into the Aston, feeling considerably less confident than they had when they'd gotten out.

"I think you'd better call your contact," Yassen said slowly, turning the key in the ignition.

"Yeah, me too," Wolf replied, a hint of amusement in his voice. Sirens sounded in the distance and Yassen looked round sharply.

"Let's go," He said, and drove them out of the yard in front of the hotel, easing the Aston out into the traffic. They were instantly brought to a standstill by the heavy traffic, but at least they were away from the hotel, though not by far.

"Wolf…" Yassen said, his voice emotionless. "Thanks, you saved my life in there." The words came out fast, like he wanted to get it over with.

"It was nothing, we're even now: you saved me, I saved you," Wolf said, smiling slightly. He hadn't expected any gratitude from the Russian.

"Anyway, what now? Skinner obviously knows we're here, so how can we make sure he can't trap us again?"

"I don't know," Wolf replied slowly, "Stop as soon as you can and I'll try and phone Baker, my contact. He might be able to give us some ideas, and possibly some protection,"

Yassen snorted.

"We don't need their protection. When I can't protect myself, it'll be time for me to die." Wolf shuddered at the matter of fact tone in his voice.

"So what do we do?"

"Phone him, get the information, but don't tell him where we are. I don't particularly want to spend the rest of my life in prison," Wolf smiled.

"Didn't think you would," He replied.

They followed the traffic across a set of lights and over the river. Yassen turned left on the far bank, and then took another left. He pulled over at the side of the road and turned to Wolf.

"Will this do?" he asked shortly.

"Yeah, this is fine," Wolf said, looking around and pulling his phone from his pocket. He was surprised that it was still working after his fall from the roof, but it still had the number inside. Yassen looked around suddenly and swore in Russian.

"You had your phone on you? That's probably how they found us," he snapped, making Wolf jump. "Use mine, it can't be traced. I'll get rid of yours."

He allowed Wolf to copy out the number into his own mobile before getting out of the car and walking to the river bank. He was half tempted to throw it out into the murky water, but Skinner would know instantly that they had worked out how he was tracking them.

A plan started to form in Yassen's mind and he pocketed the phone again, walking back to the car. Wolf was still talking to his contact, gesticulating angrily despite the fact the Baker couldn't see him.

Yassen waited for him to finish before stepping forward, his eyes gleaming.

"Baker won't give us the information and he was threatening to report me for destroying that hotel room. The report arrived just as he was talking to me, the timing couldn't have been worse," Wolf paused for breath and Yassen cut across him.

"I know how we can find Skinner," Yassen said. Wolf stared at him open-mouthed for a few seconds, then a slow smile spread over his face.

"How? What do we have to do?"

"Call Baker again on your phone, just let it ring once or something, but make sure it connects," Wolf did as he was told, taking his phone back from Yassen.

"Now what?" He asked, sliding it shut again and closing the connection.

"Now we put the phone under the bridge and get ready to follow Skinner's men when they come to get us,"

"Yeah..." Wolf said. "That might work." He passed his phone back to Yassen and watched as he walked to the river bank and dropped the phone on the concrete beneath the bridge.

"Now we wait," He said, walking back up to Wolf.

Three hours later, they were sitting in the Aston at the side of the road. Darkness had fallen about an hour previously and Yassen had pulled a pair of night-vision goggles from his suitcase. They weren't much use around the brightly lit riverside, but he was able to see clearly into the dark space beneath the bridge.

Wolf was asleep beside him, his head lolling gently against the window as he snored quietly. A flicker of movement caught Yassen's eye as he looked past Wolf and he froze, holding himself completely still.

Two men emerged from the darkness; both of them carried a gun across his chest and walked with all the confidence of professional killers. They passed within a few metres of the car, but didn't see Yassen watching them.

Once they were past him, Yassen reached out and shook Wolf awake. He was instantly alert, looking questioningly at Yassen.

"They're here," he said quietly, jerking his head towards the men.

"We're going to follow them?" Wolf asked, "What if they're on foot?"

"Then we follow them on foot, but they're not on foot, look." Yassen pointed past Wolf to a set of headlights that was advancing slowly towards them.

By the river bank, the men had realised that they had been tricked, Yassen could see one of them holding Wolf's phone up to show the other.

"It begins," he muttered, watching as the men went to the car and got in.

Yassen started the Aston's engine as soon as their door closed and, keeping the lights off, followed them a little way. He turned on the lights when they turned the corner, taking advantage of the moment when they would be out of sight.

He kept back from the men, making sure that there was always a car between them so they would be less obvious. Wolf was sitting beside him, cleaning his gun carefully. Yassen understood the feeling; when he was younger, he'd needed something to do with his hands when he was on a mission, or if he was nervous.

They drove for almost twenty minutes. The men in the car they were following didn't seem to notice that Wolf and Yassen were behind them and drove between two car showrooms, plunging into a narrow alleyway. Yassen stopped the Aston, knowing that the wide car wouldn't fit between the towering walls of concrete.

"On foot now," he said, climbing out of the car. Wolf nodded, quickly reassembling the gun as he climbed out of the car and stepped into the darkness on the narrow lane. Yassen locked it and then followed Wolf into the alleyway.

The two men ran alongside each other, Wolf's breath coming in short, painful gasps as they raced after the distant lights of the car. They died suddenly and Yassen's sharp ears picked up voices as the men climbed from the car. He and Wolf stopped running, stepping lightly on the ground, anxious not to give themselves away.

Wolf's face was contorted with pain, but he didn't let a sound escape his lips. Yassen was silent beside him, moving with all the grace of a cat. They followed the men closely, keeping to the shadows. They were only a few metres away, but the men didn't have a clue about their presence, they hadn't expected to be followed, so they had allowed themselves to relax. Big mistake, Wolf thought, stepping carefully around an old hubcap.

"Sonny, let us in, mate, it's freezing out here," one of the men called, suddenly turning and hammering on a metal door. Wolf started, taking a surprised step back.

His foot hit the metal hubcap, raising a loud clang which echoed eerily along the alley. The three men froze instantly, turning and looking right towards him. Wolf shrank back, grateful that he had thought to buy dark clothes. There was another clang, this time it was the door. It jerked open, swinging outwards.

Wolf took the opportunity to duck behind one of the bins, but he needn't have bothered; the men had apparently decided that the first bang had come from the door, and stepped inside, closing the door behind them.

"Sorry," Wolf muttered, looking round as Yassen appeared at his shoulder, apparently stepping out of thin air. "He surprised me." He explained uncomfortably, feeling like he was pinned down by Yassen's gaze.

"Understandable, but don't do it again. Let's find a way in,"

Yassen turned away from Wolf, who followed silently as he padded along the side of the wall. They reached a corner and slid around it, moving lightly and silently. Wolf stopped; they'd hit a dead end.

Yassen hesitated, apparently unsure of how to continue. He glanced around, searching for an angle, any possibility of getting into the building they were circling. His eyes fell on a metal bin lying on its side.

"Come here," he said, beckoning Wolf to follow him. He walked over to the bin and heaved it upright, though upside down. "Hold that. If I fall, it won't just be your arm hurting."

"If you fall it'll be your fault," Wolf replied through gritted teeth, bracing his good arm against the cold metal.

Yassen leapt lightly up on top of it, and then sprang to the top of the wall, using one hand to steady himself. He peered over the far side of the wall, and then dropped back down to the concrete floor of the alley.

"There's a fire escape there, we could probably get in. Do you think you'd be able to get over?" he added, casting a glance at Wolf's arm.

"Yeah, it's not too high. I might need a hand up, though,"

"Fine," Yassen said, nodding. "Get up there, and I'll give you a hand to get to the top of the wall,"

He placed his hands on the rim of the bin and held it steady, pressing it against the ground. Wolf pulled himself up on to it, balancing carefully on the tilted metal. Yassen stepped up beside him, brushing past his good arm and swinging himself up onto the wall again.

He reached around and, bracing one leg on either side of the wall, he helped Wolf to pull himself up opposite him.

"Ready?" He asked, already knowing the answer.

"Definitely," Wolf replied, a savage smile on his face and his eyes burning with energy.

They dropped down the far side of the wall, landing ankle deep in oil-slicked water. Wolf wrinkled his nose as he picked his way out of the puddle, following Yassen. They started to climb slowly up the fire escape, wincing as their feet squelched in their shoes with each step. However, no one came running out to see what the noise was, and they made it to the door at the top without any incidents.

Yassen tried the heavy wooden door and found that it was locked. He pulled back slightly, thinking hard. Wolf stood on the step below him, watching carefully.

After a few moments, a small smile flickered over Yassen's lips, vanishing almost instantly. He pulled the knife from inside his boot, wiping it carefully on his jacket, and then flicking it open and setting the wide blade against the bottom of the lock.

A few minutes later, and a lot of careful working of the blade into the crack beneath the handle, it splintered and fell off. Yassen caught it before it hit the floor, lowering it gently onto the metal grille beneath their feet.

"Ready?" He asked again, looking down at Wolf. The younger man pulled his gun from his waistband, checked the magazine, slipping another into his pocket, and then nodded.

"Let's do it," Yassen pulled his Socom out too, moved the Beretta to his pocket, and set his shoulder against the door, forcing it inwards.


	7. Truth

**Hi, another long chapter! Took me ages to find a place to break it off. Anyway, i hope you enjoy it! :D (oh and if you do, please review! THANK YOU!!)**

The door gave way almost silently, the soft wood collapsing under Yassen's weight. He stepped lightly over the rotten boards, his eyes darting to either side. No one came rushing out to meet them so he assumed that they hadn't been heard.

"Where are they?" Wolf asked quietly, coming up to stand beside Yassen.

"Over there," he whispered back, straining his ears, and then pointing in their direction. "We need to get round there," He paused. "Our best bet is to split up and come at them from both sides at once. They won't be expecting that. But I don't know if that'll work; how's your arm? Would you be able to fight with it like that?"

"It'll be fine," Wolf replied shortly, moving his arm in a quick circle. Yassen saw the tightening of his eyes and mouth as he fought to keep the pain hidden, but didn't comment.

"Ok, let's go, but don't kill them all. Skinner's blonde, shoot him, but leave him alive," he muttered finally, turning away from Wolf.

The younger man immediately set off in the opposite direction. His feet made no sound on the narrow walkway running around the edge of the warehouse. He glanced right and saw Yassen on the far side; he was much further ahead than Wolf, but he didn't speed up so he could draw level with him again. Placing his feet carefully between coils of rope and empty crates, Wolf continued towards the middle of the room.

He could see the men now, five of them, sitting in a tight circle. The three they had followed were speaking, clearly telling the other two what had happened. All five of them had their heads bent down, preventing Wolf from seeing their faces, but two of them had blonde hair. On the far side of the warehouse, Yassen drew his Socom, silently slotting the twenty-round magazine into place and flicking the safety off. Wolf did the same, pulling the Grach from his belt and checking the clip. It was full and he smiled savagely; all the pain from his shoulder faded away, and there was only him and the gun.

Yassen held up a hand, all fingers spread wide. Five seconds… four… another finger dropped, Wolf shifted position… one… NOW.

The order coursed through every muscle, driving him to his feet. He aimed automatically, driving bullets into non-fatal areas. Yassen brought three of them down in seconds, leaving the others to Wolf, who shot them both in the leg as they turned to face Yassen, guns drawn. He followed up with shots to their arms, making them drop their guns. They fell with a clatter to the floor before the final echoes of the gunshots had died away.

"Go down the ladder," Yassen called, swinging himself over the bar beside the walkway and dropping onto a crate, landing catlike on his feet, his eyes focused on the five men sprawled on the floor.

Wolf ran to the ladder at the end of the walkway and slid down the ladder, wincing as the movements jarred his arm. When he reached the group in the middle of the floor, Yassen had turned the men over onto their backs and was examining their faces.

"He's not here," he said, an edge of anger creeping into his voice. Wolf stopped dead and swore loudly, venting his annoyance in a single word.

"You're sure?" He asked.

"Of course, none of them look anything like him. See for yourself." Wolf stepped forward, past Yassen and bent to examine the men. Now he could see them close up, it was obvious that Skinner was not among the men on the floor.

"Now what?" he asked, straightening.

"We need a location, or at least an idea of a location. And we have five men here who almost certainly know where he is,"

"They won't say anything," Wolf said flatly.

"I'm a very persuasive person," said Yassen, turning away.

"I'm going to keep watch," Wolf said, sickened. Yassen watched him go. He didn't enjoy torture either, unlike some of the men that SCORPIA had trained, but his job was more important that a personal issue.

He turned back to the men and crouched down next to the nearest. The man shrank back, his eyes wide and fearful. And young. He was scarcely more than a boy, only eighteen or nineteen. Yassen ignored the terror in his eyes and dragged him away from his fellows; a whimper escaped his lips, causing Yassen to glance down. Blood was pouring from the wound in his leg, despite the hand clamped around it.

Yassen looked a little closer and realised that the man was as good as dead, no one could lose that much blood and live. The size of the wound told him that this was one of the men he had left for Wolf to shoot. He pushed the thoughts away, annoyed with himself and lowered himself to his knees. Blood instantly soaked the knees of his jeans.

"Where's Skinner?" He asked. The man whimpered again and shook his head.

"Can't… Can't tell… said… he said he'd kill anyone who told… you where he was…" the words were broken by gasps of pain.

"I'll kill you if you don't tell me where he is. And I promise you, it'll be a lot more painful than anything Skinner could think up for you," Yassen said quietly, his voice low and deadly.

"You don't… know Skinner," the man gasped, a thin smile tugging at his lips. It vanished when Yassen pulled the knife from his pocket.

"And you don't know me," He said. He reached out and forced the man's mouth open, setting the point of the blade against his gum. "I'll give you five seconds," he didn't count down, but he could see the fear in the man's eyes building.

"Time's up," He set the heel of his other hand onto the hilt of the knife and made as if to push. The man squealed and pulled away.

"I'll tell you!" he whispered. Yassen leant back, satisfied. He took the knife out of the man's mouth and wiped the blade clean, noting the tiny speck of blood on the tip of the blade.

"He's about a mile away from here, there's a house… I don't… I don't know the address… but it's big…" his voice caught and he closed his eyes briefly. Yassen watched emotionlessly, knowing that the man had only minutes left.

"Whereabouts is it?" he asked urgently, seeing the light begin to fade in the man's eyes.

"I think… it's by the river… just below the weir…" he paused, gasping for breath. "I… I'm dying, aren't I? I don't… don't want to die…" he reached out weakly to grasp Yassen's hand, but he pulled it back.

"Where exactly is the house?"

"I don't know… by the river… count… countess wear… I think it's there… Please… don't let me die..."

"I can't help you," Yassen said, his face expressionless as he stood up, turning his back on the dying man. He walked past the others, feeling their eyes follow him.

He turned suddenly and, with unerring accuracy, shot each of them dead, putting neat holes between their eyes. He slid the gun into his waistband and turned to face Wolf as he raced in, eyes wide and gun drawn. He stopped when he saw the men on the floor.

"What the hell did you do? You didn't need to kill them!" He exploded, checking each of their pulses and finding nothing.

"They would have told Skinner that we were after them,"

"You can't just kill innocent people!"

"They were working for him, it was better all round if they were eliminated," Yassen replied coolly. Wolf made an exasperated sound and turned away, then turned back, his forehead furrowed.

"Where's the other one? There were five of them, weren't there?"

"He's over there," Wolf walked over and stopped dead, looking down at the young man.

"You killed him as well?" he asked, his voice colder than ice.

"No. You shot him; he bled to death," Yassen retorted, his patience stretched thin. He saw Wolf pause, looking at the man on the floor.

"I killed him?"

"Yes," Yassen replied shortly.

"He's so young… why was he here?"

"You can ask Skinner when we find him," Yassen said, checking the other men.

"He was just in the wrong place at the wrong time," Wolf hesitated, unsure why he wanted to ask the question now, of all times. "Why did you save me? You never said, not properly at least."

"We don't have time for this," Yassen replied shortly.

"Tell me," Wolf said coldly, his voice hard. "It wasn't just because you felt sorry for me. Or because you were worried I'd be killed, was it?"

"No. You knew where I was, what I was after. Skinner would have left as soon as he saw you go down, you weren't in any danger. But if you told MI6 that I was after him as well, I would have been as good as dead. It was safer to keep you with me so I could keep an eye on you,"

"Why didn't you just kill me?"

"You didn't kill me when you had the chance. Besides, I thought that I could use the help. I wasn't expecting Skinner to turn up and shoot people on the first day, he's more dangerous than I expected," He paused, turning his head and sniffing the air like a dog… like a wolf.

Sirens sounded in the distance, "We need to go, the police won't take long to get here. Gunshots never go unnoticed for long," He spoke quickly, moving round and catching hold of Wolf's good arm. Wolf pulled his arm free instantly, but followed Yassen as he walked away. He unlocked the door and they walked back into the darkness of the alley.

Wolf pointedly kept his gaze off Yassen, ignoring him completely. While he understood his reasons, nothing had prepared him for the casual killing of four men, just because they might get word to Skinner. Another image floated to the front of his mind; empty eyes staring at the ceiling, filled with tears, a mouth hanging half open, and pain written into every line of his body. He had killed someone who was little more than a boy. He must have been about the same age as his brother had been. Did that make him as bad as the thugs who had killed his brother?

"Wolf? Get in the car; we need to go." Yassen's voice jerked his thoughts back to the present and he obeyed without thinking. They drove in silence, although Countess Wear was only a mile away as the crow flies, it took them almost quarter of an hour to reach it.

"Stay here, keep an eye out for any police. If you see anything, come and find me," Yassen said. Wolf nodded, glancing sideways at the Russian before focusing his gaze through the windscreen once more.

Yassen walked off, leaving Wolf in the car. He felt a slight pang of guilt at lying to the younger man, but he dispelled it with practised ease. Focusing his mind on the task at hand, he padded silently along the road. He kept his eyes on the windows of the houses, watching for movement, or any sign of a sniper. There was none of either and he continued down the hill. A large, cream coloured house shone clearly through the gloom and he walked towards it, slipping a hand into his waistband. A flicker of movement caught his eye, but by the time his eyes had settled on it, there was nothing there, only a gently fluttering curtain.

Suddenly tense, he stopped, drawing the gun in one fluid movement and flicking the safety off. He sprinted towards the house, flattening himself against the wall so he was less of a target. His breath suddenly echoed in his ears and every movement seemed deafeningly loud. Surely everyone could hear that he was there?

Taking a deep, steadying breath, he took a step away from the wall and slid around the corner.

The gunshot was surprisingly loud, echoing around the garden.


	8. Closing in

**Heya! Me again! Hope you like this chapter, sorry for the wait, I've had WAY too much homework!! Anyway... Enjoy...**

Wolf started at the sound of the gunshot, hitting his head on the low roof. He stumbled from the car, pulling his gun from his waistband and flicking the safety off. He raced in the direction that Yassen had gone, ignoring the pain in his shoulder. He reached a turning and skidded to a halt, panting.

It took him a few crucial moments to decide which way to go and he turned left, heading down a steep slope to the pale house at the bottom. There was the unmistakable smell of gunpowder on the air, sweet and strangely comforting. He stopped again. He stepped onto the grass verge to silence his footsteps and listened carefully. He could hear heavy breathing nearby and a sudden series of metallic sounds from a little further away.

He threw himself to the floor, hoping that he hadn't been seen. If someone here had a gun… Where was Yassen? He eased his head up, casting his gaze from side to side.

"Wolf, here," Yassen's voice made him started, but he resisted the impulse to run or, failing that, shoot, as Yassen slid over the wall. Blood flowed freely from a cut on his cheek, staining his shirt. He crept, bent double across the road to where Wolf was crouched.

"What happened? You were shot?" Wolf asked urgently. Yassen shot him a disdainful look, blood seeping between his fingers as he cupped his hand to his cheek.

"No, I just cut my cheek open for fun…" Yassen hissed back, voice dripping with sarcasm.

"Who did it?"

"Some bastard over there, by the greenhouse I think," Yassen said, turning and raising his head to get a better look at the distant greenhouse.

"Is Skinner here?"

"How should I know? I was a bit preoccupied with trying not to get shot," Yassen snarled, glaring at Wolf.

"Sorry. I thought you'd have been able to shoot him first?"

"Normally I would, but it's pitch black and I can't see a thing," Yassen snapped. He stopped himself and took a deep breath. "Come on, stay away from the house and follow me. Silence," he added over his shoulder.

Wolf nodded and followed, staying low against the ground. Yassen was prone for much of the time; he hardly seemed to be there as he slid between bushes and plants. Wolf followed as quietly as he could, but refused to go prone, not wanting to make his shoulder worse.

Yassen stopped suddenly, drawing his legs up underneath him until he was crouched on the ground, head low as he tried to conceal himself in the silhouette of a tall sapling surrounded by bushes. Wolf hunkered down behind him, clutching his arm tightly.

Yassen wiped a trickle of blood from his cheek, succeeding in smearing it across his face in a bloody streak. It contrasted sharply with his pale skin.

"Right then," he breathed. He pushed his right foot into the soft earth, creating a firm base.

Faster than Wolf's eyes could follow, Yassen was on his feet and had fired five shots in the direction of the surprised breath that the man in the shadows had released when he sprang up. The shots made hardly any sound; the Socom was silenced and all Wolf heard was a quick series of strangled coughs as the muzzle spat bullets into the darkness.

The black clad figure fell back, a spray of bullets flying from his gun as his hand contracted automatically against the pain. Yassen ducked, stepping sideways to avoid the deadly volley. But within seconds he was at the man's side, ripping the now empty gun from his weakening grasp.

Yassen could see that there was no point in questioning this man, all five rounds had connected, three in his chest, one embedded in his arm, and the last one had cut a diagonal slash across his throat, nicking the jugular. This last wound was pulsing blood strongly, pooling around his head and neck and soaking into the dark jacket he was wearing. Yassen convulsively ran a hand across his own throat, where a similar wound had left a long, diagonal scar across his neck.

Within seconds of Yassen arriving at his side, the man drew in a final gurgling breath and was still. Wolf stood up and walked over to Yassen as he climbed to his feet.

"That's not him," he said flatly. Yassen shook his head,

"No, it isn't. But we still haven't checked the house," he added, glancing towards the dark windows. Wolf smiled and led the way across the lawn, keeping away from the wide path down the centre and treading only on the grass. Yassen was a few feet behind him, spitting blood with each step.

"Ready?" he asked, wiping a hand across his cheek again. Wolf nodded shortly. Yassen loaded a fresh clip into the Socom and drew the Beretta as well, nudging both safeties off.

He pushed the door open with his foot and stepped silently into the house, unnerved by the fact that the door was unlocked.

"Careful, something's wrong," He whispered to Wolf without taking his eyes off the door opposite.

"I know," the younger man muttered in reply, standing shoulder to shoulder with the Russian. He fell in behind him again, sensing that Yassen was used to being in the lead, and they passed through the door out of the kitchen. As they stepped into the room directly opposite, there was a sudden roar outside.

Wolf didn't hesitate, his training took over and he dived head first through the window, shattering the thin glass. His shoulder screamed at him as he rolled and came up firing. None of the bullets connected with the car as it sped out of sight around the corner. Wolf swore, and then sank back onto the floor with a soft groan, gripping his shoulder tightly.

"He got away?" Yassen asked, skidding to a stop beside him. Wolf nodded.

"Yeah," he grunted through gritted teeth. Yassen glanced down at him and a flicker of concern crossed his face.

"Come on, get up," he said, heaving Wolf to his feet. He swayed slightly but managed to stay upright.

Yassen helped him up the hill, worried by Wolf's pale, drawn face. He pulled off the sodden bandages around the bullet wound, noting that it was open again and blood was meandering slowly down Wolf's arm. He wrapped a new bandage tightly around it, trying to staunch the flow of blood.

"Sit still, and don't move too much; you've lost quite a lot of blood," He said. Wolf nodded and buckled himself into the seat.

"Where are we going now? We need to find Skinner," he said, his voice weak and hoarse.

"Not now; you need to rest and get some of your strength back,"

Wolf started to protest, but Yassen silenced him with a glare and he sat back.

"He waited…" he said a few minutes later as Yassen eased the Aston out into the early morning traffic. "He bloody waited,"

"Yes, I think he was in the garage; he probably had cameras in the house, that's what I would have done, so he waited until we couldn't get outside in time, and then went for it. He won't hang around now; we need a new lead," Yassen said, an edge of annoyance creeping into his voice. They had been so close!

Beside him, Wolf gradually drifted into an uneasy sleep. Yassen almost envied him, he hadn't slept for over twenty four hours now and it was starting to take its toll; he could feel the fatigue in his muscles.

"Try Baker again," he said when Wolf woke up a few hours later; it wasn't a suggestion, it was an order, and Wolf's military training had him reaching for Yassen's phone before his brain could process what he'd said.

"He won't tell me anything, you know that. Especially as it's about four o'clock,"

"Say that you've heard that I'm after him and only Skinner can tell SCORPIA to stop. That should get a reaction. The Police know who I am; it should have the desired effect."

Wolf hesitated before smiling and dialling the number again.

Yassen listened as Wolf made the call. He was glad that they had another possible lead, slim as it was. It gave him a target, something to do.

"They've got a trace on his car; a policeman saw it about an hour ago, he was heading towards Cornwall. Baker's got the whole force on the lookout for him," Wolf announced, hanging up. He sounded amused and Yassen didn't blame him; it was amazing what a few threats could do for someone's motivation.

"Good, let's go, then. You still need to sleep," he added, glancing at Wolf. The younger man didn't argue and settled himself back into the seat, closing his eyes as Yassen drove them onto the A30. The Aston roared southwards, drawing admiring looks from the people in the cars they passed.

A little over an hour later, Yassen pulled off the A30. Wolf woke up as the car stopped and looked around.

"Where are we?" he asked, blinking rapidly.

"St. Austell," Yassen replied, closing his eyes.

"Why have we stopped here?"

"Two reasons, one; Baker didn't give us a definite place to go, so we might as well stay here for a while. And two: I'm exhausted and I need to sleep. Keep watch for a while, will you?" Wolf nodded and managed to stay awake while Yassen slept. He was almost surprised that the Russian needed to sleep; he gave the impression that he could keep going forever. All the same, it was strangely reassuring that Yassen needed to sleep. It reminded Wolf that he was only human.

After only a couple of hours Yassen's phone rang. Wolf snatched it up, recognised Baker's number, and answered it before the shrill tone could wake Yassen.

"Yes?" he said, keeping his voice low.

"He's in Hayle. He used his credit card to get a caravan in The Towans. I sent a plain clothes officer over to the campsite and his car was there,"

"How long is he booked in for?"

"Indefinitely, the site owner wouldn't say. I could get someone to find out for you, though." Wolf glanced sideways at Yassen. He had woken up and was watching Wolf with a look of intense concentration on his face. He caught Wolf's eye and shook his head.

"No, I don't think it'll take that long," Wolf said, and hung up. "He's in Hayle," he added to Yassen.

"Right," he growled, gunning the engine and accelerating out onto the busy road. Horns blared all around them, but Yassen ignored them, his whole attention focused on the road as he drove them towards Hayle, hopefully the last place they'd have to follow Skinner to. He was getting sick of this game of cat and mouse.

**Right, i have a little dilemma. basically, some people want me to put Alex in, but i'm not sure. however... if you want Alex in here, i will put him in, please review to let me know...**


	9. Encounter

**Hi, sorry for the pathetically short chapter!! there'll be action in the next one! oh, and this now doesn't really fit anywhere (it was originally meant to be set between SB and ES), so just fit it in between Point Blanc and Skeleton Key. Please R&R!! Anyway, on with the chapter…**

Half an hour later they stopped. Wolf had strapped his arm across his chest so it couldn't move and make the wound worse. He opened the door and stepped out, turning his face slightly as the wind whipped viciously at his eyes.

They were standing at the edge of a vast expanse of sand dunes, stretching indeterminately into the distance. Yassen blinked in the wind, zipping his jacket up.

"That way," he said after a few moments, pointing along a narrow path leading along the side of the narrow lane leading to the campsite. He locked the Aston and they started along it, Wolf stumbled occasionally on the uneven ground, but Yassen moved with astonishing grace.

The track slanted gently downhill and as they reached the brow of the hill the ocean was suddenly spread out below them, coloured stormy grey by the dark clouds overhead. And a little to their right was the campsite, a green area dotted with caravans and tents; all seemed to be huddled against the fierce wind, clinging to the ground.

"I'm going to check where he's staying," Yassen said as they walked into the site. "Stay here and make sure he doesn't come out, ok?" Wolf nodded and backed up, sitting on the fence at the side of the entrance. Yassen ducked into the small cabin that served as an office; Wolf caught his expression through the window, relief was etched over his face. Sighing and pulling his jacket more tightly around him, Wolf turned back to the campsite, turning his head at every movement.

"Number sixty seven," Yassen said, appearing at his shoulder. Wolf jumped, half drawing his gun.

"Don't do that," he exclaimed as he slipped the gun back into his waistband. "I get jumpy."

"Think of me as on-the-job training," Yassen said, one eyebrow raised. Wolf glared at him but didn't let the retort that sprang to his lips escape as they walked towards number sixty seven.

As they turned a corner, there was a cry from behind them and the two men turned simultaneously. Wolf staggered slightly as his eyes fell on the figure standing a few feet away. Yassen felt a small smile tug at his lips as he stared at the boy.

And Alex Rider glared at the pair of them, disbelief written all over his face.

"What the…? Why are you here?" he asked finally, his eyes flicked from one to the other and his brow wrinkled. "Have you been following me?"

"No." Wolf said, unsure about what to do.

"Why are you together? I thought you were on different sides? Unless… Wolf…?" Alex surprised himself at how calm he was. part of him was screaming that he should be freaking out, but another part overrode it and kept him under control.

"No, neither of us has, uh, 'changed sides'; we just have to do the same thing, and it was better to work together,"

"What are you doing?" Alex asked instantly.

"Losing our target," Yassen muttered, glancing along the row of caravans. Alex followed his gaze, and then turned back to look at Yassen and Wolf.

"You're here to kill someone?" he asked, disgust flickering over his face. Wolf glanced away to avoid his gaze, but Yassen met Alex's eyes, his own gaze cold as ice.

"Yes, not that it concerns you," he said. Part of him, the part that still grieved for John Rider, rebelled against his coldness, but he didn't want to put Alex in danger.

"You know I could get MI6 here?"

"They know I'm here," Wolf said shortly. "Look, we have to go," he turned and set off along the road that looped around the campsite. Yassen followed suit, as did Alex. He followed them for a few yards before they stopped again.

"Cub," Wolf said, keeping his voice light and friendly. Alex didn't look impressed.

"What are you doing?" Yassen asked, he didn't bother with friendliness and his tone was blunt.

"I want to know what you're doing,"

"We told you already. And it's still nothing to do with you,"

"Let me come with you?" Alex said, directing the question towards Wolf, sensing that he would be easier to persuade than Yassen.

"No, it's too dangerous, and-"

"-and what? Come on, Wolf, you know I can take care of myself," Alex cried, angry at being thought of as helpless.

"That's irrelevant," Yassen cut in. "I think we all know that Alex will follow us even if we don't say he can come. Skinner could be miles away by now, so could we please cut this short? Wolf, keep an eye on him and follow me."

The others fell silent instantly and followed without arguing as Yassen led the way towards caravan sixty seven.


	10. Stalemate

**Hi! Action!! YAY!! Anyway, sorry about that, I have an unexpected free period, so I'm pretty happy!! Anyway (again), hope you enjoy this chapter, i had great fun writing it!! ok, am officially feeling stupid now! I wrote the first bit on Monday, and then forgot to put it up! SORRY!!!  
**

Alex was smiling smugly as he fell into step behind Wolf and Yassen. His heart hammered in his chest and his breath came in quick, excited bursts.

"Shhh, be quiet." Yassen hissed from the front, he drew his gun at the same time and Alex clamped his mouth shut, breathing almost silently through his nose. Wolf also produced a gun and they split up, Yassen went right and Alex followed Wolf left. Between them, they had both ends covered.

They were still a few caravans away from sixty seven, and for a second it was out of sight as Yassen dropped behind another one to avoid being run over by a car. When he next looked, a blonde haired figure was sprinting across the open area between the caravan and the cliff edge. Yassen swore loudly in Russian, alerting the others, and set out in pursuit.

He loosed two shots after Skinner, but neither of them connected. Wolf was right behind him, while Alex was racing along almost ten metres behind him. Skinner vaulted the fence and Yassen took advantage of his brief pause to fire another shot. This one connected, but only just, clipping the back of his shoulder. Skinner cried out in pain but continued running.

By the time Yassen reached the fence, he had disappeared behind a rise in the sand dunes. He vaulted the fence and sprinted after him.

"Yassen, he's there!" Wolf called from behind him. Yassen stopped, sending up a spray of sand, and looked back. Wolf was pointing to a place off to his right. He skidded to a stop beside Yassen, closely followed by Alex. The boy was panting heavily, but his eyes burned with excitement. Yassen raised an eyebrow; he hadn't expected the boy to keep up.

"Wolf, go right, we should be able to surround him. Alex, stay here,"

"No, I'm going with Wolf," Alex said instantly.

"We don't have time for this! Stay here. Skinner wouldn't think twice about shooting any of us, including you." Alex shrugged.

"I've been in danger before," he muttered.

"I'll keep an eye on him, we need to go. Now," Wolf cut in, stepping between the two of them.

"Fine," Yassen said after a short pause. He turned and raced off without another word. Wolf sighed and did the same, running towards the place where he had last seen Skinner. Alex followed him automatically.

"Thanks for that," he panted.

"You owe me," Wolf replied, his breathing was steady and even.

Alex didn't reply, but focused on keeping up with Wolf. It was much harder running here than it was on the track at Brookland. The dunes felt like mountains, some of the slopes they scrambled up were over ten metres high, and composed entirely of loose sand that dragged at their feet. Even Wolf was showing signs of strain by the time they reached the top of the third one.

But then Skinner was in front of them, a couple of dunes away. A large red stain had spread through his shirt, making him basically a moving target. Wolf didn't stop, but fired a shot at Skinner as they drew level. It missed, thudding into the sand inches from his chest. He flung himself sideways and scrambled up the rest of the bank and out of sight.

Yassen heard the gunshot, but didn't stop; he wasn't doing to suppose that Skinner was dead until he'd seen the body, and preferably pulled the trigger. He angled inland slightly, clambered up a steep sand dune and stopped at the top. There were fresh footprints in the sand, sprinkled with blood. Yassen bent down and dipped his finger into a small pool congealing in one of the footprints. It was still hot. Skinner must have passed here only minutes before.

A flicker of movement caught his eye and he looked up to see Wolf and Alex reach the top of a dune a few hundred yards away. They didn't see him and continued down the other side and out of sight. He straightened up, wiped his finger on his jeans, and then sprinted down the side of the dune he was on, following the deep footprints. He leapt across the bottom and scaled the other side in three quick bounds.

There! A quick flash of blonde hair. Legs burning, Yassen raced after Skinner as he vanished again.

Minutes later, Alex and Wolf stopped for a few moments. Alex was bent double, gasping for breath, while Wolf scanned the dunes with a pair of binoculars.

"Why are you here?" Wolf asked, focusing the binoculars a bit closer.

"Holiday," Alex wheezed. "I'm here with Jack; she's visiting a friend of hers."

"No, I meant why are you here? Why are you so keen on following me?" Wolf corrected, glancing sideways at the boy.

Alex shrugged.

"It's a bit boring acting normal. I can't just go back to being an ordinary schoolboy after that stuff at Point Blanc. You know they blew up my school?"

"Yes, but I can't imagine you being too upset about that," Wolf said, smiling despite himself.

"I wasn't really. But it's just really hard to go back to being normal."

"I guess it would be… look, there he is." Wolf cried suddenly, cutting across Alex. He ran down the bank, leapt across the bottom and vanished over the top. Alex followed as fast as he could, but by the time he reached the top of the dune, Wolf was nowhere to be seen. His footprints were clear for a few yards, but then led into a bed of the spiky grass that covered the dunes and faded from sight.

Swearing, Alex ran in the direction he thought Wolf would have gone. He wanted to call out, but Yassen's warning about Skinner was too fresh in his mind. It was best to avoid danger if at all possible. But after another five minutes of frantic, fruitless searching, Alex risked a shout. One yell that echoed over the dunes.

Yassen heard it, turned towards the sound and saw Wolf a few yards away. He was in the process of lowering his gun.

"Where's Alex?" Yassen asked, deciding to ignore the fact that his partner had been on the verge of shooting him, for now at least.

"I don't know. He was right behind me a few moments ago." Wolf said defensively. But now he thought back, he hadn't seen Alex for a while.

Yassen swore harshly in Russian. It surprised Wolf; Yassen had never shown any real emotion before, and while Wolf didn't understand the words, he recognised the tone.

"Let's go, we have to find him."

"What about Skinner?" Wolf asked. Yassen hesitated, not wanting to voice his hunch that finding Alex would mean finding Skinner.

"We've found him twice, we could do it again," he reasoned. Wolf paused and then nodded.

"Let's go find Alex," he said. Yassen smiled tightly and led the way as they followed Wolf's footprints through the dry sand. Both men were better at tracking than Alex was and had no problems following Wolf's trail.

"Look here," Wolf said suddenly, pointing. "These aren't your footprints, but they're fresh and too big to be Alex's."

"Skinner's."

"They probably are his, but why would he be heading inland?"

Yassen looked at him across the prints, waiting for the penny to drop. When it did, Wolf's face drained of colour.

"We have to find him," he croaked, turning and following the new trail of prints.

"Let me save you the trouble." Yassen and Wolf twisted around and looked up, searching for the speaker.

Daniel Skinner was outlined against the grey sky. So was the gun he was holding to Alex's head.


	11. Mission: complete

**Hi, me again! Sorry for the long gap, I was going to put this up last night, but that didn't work out. Anyway, here's chapter 11 :)**

Yassen first instinct was to shoot. But training overrode it; Skinner was using Alex as a shield and he wouldn't be able to shoot anything fatal on him without hitting Alex. And that was something he couldn't let happen.

"Let him go." Wolf said slowly, his voice was low and calming. Yassen recognised hostage negotiation techniques: the gentle voice, the way Wolf had lowered himself down slightly so he looked like less of a threat.

"Nah, I don't think I will. This kid's gonna be my ticket out of here, and away from you two. What did I ever do to you?" He asked, his voice rising hysterically. Yassen saw his finger tighten on the trigger and tensed, although he knew that he wouldn't have a chance of reaching Alex before the bullet would.

"That doesn't matter. Just let Alex go and we can talk," Wolf said, eyes flickering sideways towards Yassen.

"I've already said no. Don't you get that? Let me walk away and you might not be scraping dear Alex, wasn't it? You might not be scraping dear Alex here off the road. Or perhaps even roads. I'm not fussy," Skinner's voice was light. He could have been ordering another beer, but he wasn't, he was threatening to kill a fourteen-year-old boy.

Wolf was at a loss. He could see that Skinner wasn't going to be dissuaded. He glanced sideways at Yassen, but the Russian didn't meet his eyes; his gaze was fixed intently on Alex, squirming weakly in Skinner's grasp. His expression was strange, a mixture of sadness and –was it possible- fear.

Wolf turned back and looked at them too. He saw the fearful expression on Alex's face and regretted allowing him to come with them; he could have been back at the campsite if it wasn't for him.

Alex was doing some quick thinking. The gun was pressed against his temple, but Skinner hadn't turned the safety off, so the gun was essentially useless, except as a club. He squirmed slightly, trying to get his feet onto the floor, but Skinner's arm was clamped too tightly around his chest for him to achieve anything. He was just grateful that he hadn't seized him around the throat. Alex watched as Wolf and Yassen converged, whispering frantically. Or rather, Wolf whispered; Yassen remained silent, his eyes fixed on Skinner. Though, and here Alex was unsure, at times Yassen seemed to be watching him rather than his captor.

Skinner was also watching Yassen and Wolf, so Alex took the opportunity to wriggle a bit more. He sucked in a breath, pulled his stomach in, and felt himself slip slightly in Skinner's grasp. His feet hit the sand and he looked round. Skinner hadn't noticed that he was standing on the ground; he was still too involved in the conversation at the foot of the sand dune.

By writhing in his grasp, Alex managed to gain some space around his body. Enough to turn round.

Skinner wasn't experienced with the gun in his hand. Alex could see that it sat awkwardly in his grip. If he'd had more experience he wouldn't have had to look for the safety to turn it off. As it was, he did, and the moment his gaze left Alex, the boy struck.

His fist drove into Skinner's stomach, making him gasp. His grip on the gun slackened in shock. Alex knocked it out of his hand and brought his knee up sharply. Skinner folded in half, groaning and swearing. He released Alex in an instinctive, though feeble attempt at protection.

Alex ran down the dune to Wolf and Yassen, pride evident in his face. Wolf looked dumbstruck; he hadn't expected Alex to do anything. Yassen on the other hand, merely looked pleased. In fact, Alex thought, he looked as if he'd expected him to make an escape.

"Well done, you did good, Cub," Wolf said, grinning. Yassen nodded once and Alex took it to be a sign of approval. He nodded in return and then turned to Wolf, aware that he was speaking again. But he didn't get time to focus on the words.

Behind him, Yassen swore softly. The word was so unexpected that both Alex and Wolf froze for a second. Alex whipped round, followed Yassen's gaze and swore much more loudly. Wolf laughed, but was already halfway up the dune; Yassen was a few steps ahead. Skinner was nowhere to be seen.

As the sky overhead got steadily darker, Yassen followed his blood-spattered footprints through the cold sand. Despite himself, Yassen was impressed by Skinner's ability to keep going through this terrain. He and Wolf had been following him in circles for hours now. Alex was still with Wolf, having called Jack to say he'd be back late.

But finally, Yassen turned to Wolf and spoke for the first time in hours.

"Take Alex back. He's exhausted and I can find Skinner on my own." The words were brusque and hoarse.

"I'll take him back after," Wolf argued.

"No, take him back now," Yassen snarled. Tiredness and frustration had worn the barrier that hid his emotions very thin indeed. Wolf wisely decided not to argue and, taking Alex by the arm, he led him up the dune and out of sight.

Yassen smiled, glad that he had convinced Wolf to take Alex back. He didn't want the boy to see what he was going to do to Skinner when he found him. He swapped the gun for a knife, certain that Skinner wasn't armed now Alex had knocked his gun away. Yassen usually killed with a gun, but after everything that Skinner had put him through over the last few days, he felt that he didn't deserve the quick death that a bullet brought.

He weighed the knife in his hand for a moment, leapt forward and within two bounds was at the crest of the nearest dune. Skinner was visible about twenty yards away on the top of a sandbank. He glanced back at Yassen, watched in shock as he crouched and sprang, cat-like, across the gap between them. He landed halfway up the next dune and was at the top in a flash.

He shot Skinner a friendly smile. The man turned and ran. He fell and rolled to the bottom. By the time he had cleared his mouth of sand and gasped in a breath of air, Yassen was upon him.

His knife slashed through the darkness, glinting silver as a sliver of light glanced off the blade. Dark blood spattered the sand around him as Yassen slashed the blade across Skinner's throat, twisted his arm with lightning swiftness, and plunged it into his chest. He slid it directly between his ribs and it slid in smoothly up to the hilt.

Twisting the knife, Yassen pulled it free and stood up. Skinner watched him with dull, lifeless eyes before they rolled back in his head and he fell still. Yassen smiled again, this time it was triumphant. He bent and wiped the knife on Skinner's jacket, not worried about leaving DNA; the police were already after him, so he might as well give them another reason. If Skinner was even found. Yassen wasn't sure where he was; it could be weeks before his body was found.

Yassen turned away from Skinner's prone form and climbed to the top of the nearest sand dune. He came up facing the sea; he could see the faint reflections of the moonlight on the water. Glancing left across the dunes, he could just make out the dark shapes of Wolf and Alex. He hesitated, part of him was saying that he should leave now, before anyone realised that he was here. But another part rebelled against the idea; he owed Wolf his life, and he wanted to say goodbye, if nothing else. He carefully kept his thoughts away from Alex; he hadn't expected to see him again, and definitely not here.

He made up his mind within seconds, turned left and followed Wolf and Alex towards the campsite. Behind him, a light breeze blew a thin covering of sand over Skinner's body.


	12. Suspicion

Wolf stopped at the edge of the sand dunes and looked back. He couldn't see Yassen anywhere and he sighed.

"Wolf? Are you alright?" Alex asked. He was standing up to his knees in long, swaying grass on the edge of the campsite.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Wolf replied, turning back and walking down to him. "Come on, Jack will want to have you back."

"Yeah, she'll probably kill me for going off with you. Do you think she'd buy it if I said you'd kidnapped me?" They both laughed as they set off towards the caravans.

"No, she probably wouldn't," said Wolf.

"Ah well," said Alex. He started to say something else, but caught himself with a worried glance at Wolf.

"What?"

"I was just wondering… why did you need to kill that man? Surely it's not really the sort of thing MI6 go in for? I thought they were meant to stop assassins." Wolf sighed.

"They do stop assassins. Well, assassins that aren't theirs," he added with a laugh. "But they'd tried everything else with Skinner, and it was easier and cheaper to have him killed." A note of resentment crept into his voice and Alex glanced at him.

"You don't agree." It wasn't a question.

"Not really," Wolf admitted with a shrug. "But in this case I'll make an exception."

"Your arm, did he do that?"

"Yeah," Wolf rubbed his shoulder gently, wincing. It pained him whenever he was reminded of the wound.

"What happened?" Wolf snorted.

"What do you think happened? He shot me and buggered off."

"What about Yassen?" Alex asked cautiously, unable to contain his curiosity.

"He bandaged me up and probably saved my life. He was also after Skinner, so it made sense for us to work together. And here we are. I don't know where he's gone, though," Wolf added, turning and looking back at the now distant dunes. Alex made a non-committal noise in the back of his throat and carried on walking.

They walked in silence to Alex's caravan. Jack was sitting on the sofa, staring out into the darkness. She leapt up and opened the door as she saw them.

"Alex! I was so worried about you," She exclaimed, throwing her arms around him. She ignored Wolf completely.

"I'm fine, Jack," Alex said, grinning. She didn't take his word for it and continued to hole him to her.

"Don't you ever do that again," She scolded eventually, pulling back. Wolf glanced away guiltily. The movement seemed to attract her attention and she looked at him properly for the first time.

"Alex, who's this?" Her tone was suddenly hard and held a warning note. Alex clearly picked up on it, because he moved himself slightly between her and Wolf before answering.

"This is Wolf, he's from the SAS." Jack's face paled, but her eyes remained steady.

"And why is he here?" she asked, still in the same steely tone.

"He…" Alex began, but cut himself short. Jack's eyes narrowed suspiciously as she looked at Wolf. He returned it blandly, a slight smile on his lips.

A sound made him turn and he pulled the gun from his waistband before he'd completed the movement. Jack gasped and Alex shoved in front of her, bringing his hands up and moving into combat stance. A moment later they were as they had been a few seconds earlier; Yassen had walked casually around the corner of the caravan

"Alex, isn't… Isn't that that man…?" Jack said. The confidence had drained from her voice and she sounded as weak as she looked. Yassen stopped a few feet away, his face blank. He appeared to be unaware of the stir he had caused by turning up.

"Jack, he saved me," Alex reminded his guardian. Yassen inclined his head towards her, allowing a small smile to touch his lips. Wolf could see that the Russian was enjoying himself.

"He's a killer… isn't he? That's what you said," She protested weakly, glaring at Yassen.

"Jack, forget it." Alex sighed. "I'll try and explain later."

"You're staying? They're not here to take you away on another mission?"

"Of course not," Wolf cut in, smiling reassuringly. Jack wasn't buying it; her gaze remained stony as she glared at Wolf and Yassen.

"Jack, I've already said, I'm not going to work for MI6 again, no matter what they say." Alex shot Wolf a sharp glance to reinforce his words and the SAS man held up his hands disarmingly, smiling.

Yassen took advantage of the distraction and stepped back, melting into invisibility in the darkness. He stayed within earshot, but felt more comfortable away from the others. He had hoped to speak to Alex alone, but it was plain that Jack wasn't going to let him out of her sight and he didn't fancy telling him what he wanted to say in front of her, and especially not in front of Wolf. He felt vaguely guilty just imagining the expression on his face.

"Yassen," Wolf's voice made him start. "I think it'd be best if we left now; Jack's getting a bit annoyed." Wolf's voice was tinged with amusement and he was grinning. Yassen nodded in agreement and turned to follow Wolf back past the caravan.

Alex was waiting for them, standing a few feet away from Jack with his arms crossed. He nodded once to Wolf before striding purposefully towards Yassen.

"You killed my uncle," He growled. "I haven't forgotten, you're still my enemy." Yassen opened his mouth to bring the boy's cosy little world crashing around his ears, but stopped himself. Alex wouldn't take him seriously, and Wolf would probably shoot him on the spot. In the end he just shrugged.

"I have a lot of enemies," he said quietly. "All of whom are more dangerous than you. Alex, it's not too late, you can still say no, leave this life to the adults. As I said before, killing is for grown-ups, and you're still just a child." The words were spoken so softly that only Alex could hear them. He opened his mouth to make a retort, but Yassen and Wolf had already gone, fading silently into the night.

Alex turned back to Jack and smiled as she folded him into her arms. He had meant what he'd said earlier, there was no way he was going to work for MI6 again, and he tried to convey this to Jack by tightening his hold on her and pressing his face into her shoulder, suddenly feeling very young.

"What did the blonde man say?" she asked tentatively when they broke apart.

"He told me not to go back to MI6, as if I would," Alex added, laughing. Jack smiled too, but it was worried and distant and didn't reach her anxious eyes. Alex didn't notice, he was still clamped in her arms, so tightly that it was hard to breathe; Jack seemed scared that he was going to vanish into thin air.

"Jack, I'm not going anywhere," He said quietly, pulling back. She nodded and released him. They both turned and looked in the direction that Yassen and Wolf had gone, lost in their thoughts.

Jack was wondering if she would be able to talk to Mrs. Jones and convince her not to use Alex again. Alex was half glad, and half annoyed with himself that he had let Wolf leave.


	13. Offer

**Apologies for the short chapter! this is the last one, I'm afraid, but I'm going to write some others following on from this, so keep an eye out :) They'll all start with "shades of" something or other. Anyway, I'll shut up and let you read :D**

"Yassen, what are we going to do now?" Wolf asked hesitantly. They were sat in the Aston with the engine idling, watching the waves breaking on the beach. They had been sitting in silence for almost an hour now; Wolf hadn't wanted to break the silence, but it had eventually become unbearable.

"I'd better get back to SCORPIA, obviously." Yassen hesitated before adding, "I'll drop you somewhere, if you like. I can't really leave you here."

"Thanks, that'd be useful," Wolf said, hiding a smile. He had been worrying about that exact thing earlier; he had no money, and thanks to Yassen, no phone either.

They fell back into silence again and Yassen realised how relaxed it had become. When he had first met Wolf, they had both been on red-alert the whole time, neither one trusted the other. But, after all they'd been through, there was a sense of camaraderie there, an ease that certainly hadn't been there before. Yassen felt a slight twinge of sadness that he would have to lose it, probably before the end of the day. He shook his head to clear it; he was an assassin for crying out loud!

"Let's get going," he said shortly. Wolf jumped slightly, but grinned and nodded.

"Yeah." He turned and stared out of the window, clearly lost in thought as they sped back out onto the A-road, heading back up towards Devon.

Yassen seemed distant on the drive back, answering Wolf's occasional attempts at conversation with monosyllables or silence; eventually the younger man gave up and stared moodily out the window as the sun rose higher and higher in the sky.

Yassen thought as he drove, trying to make sense of the half-formed thought that had taken root in his mind.

"You're officially part of MI6 now? They were the ones who wanted you to go after Skinner, yes? Or are you still part of the SAS?" He asked eventually.

"I don't really know what's going on. I left the SAS, but I don't know about MI6. I was thinking of having a change anyway, though." Wolf spoke cautiously.

They sat in silence for a few minutes, while Wolf waited for Yassen to continue.

"Why do you ask?" He finally asked.

Yassen didn't answer at first, instead guiding the Aston through a particularly tricky piece of road. After a few minutes, though, he sighed and glanced across at his passenger.

"How old would you say I was?" He enquired, catching Wolf off guard.

"Um…" The younger man scanned the Russian's face quickly, "twenty-eight?"

"I'm thirty-five." Wolf didn't attempt to fill the silence that followed that statement. He wasn't sure what to say.

"I'm getting too old for this. I considered going into business for myself, but I wouldn't be able to do much on my own, and no one else wants to leave SCORPIA," he continued slowly. Wolf still didn't speak, though he thought he could see where this was leading. And he wasn't sure he could refuse if Yassen made the offer.

"So I suppose I'm asking if, as you don't belong anywhere at the moment, you wouldn't consider going into business with me." He stopped the sentence dead, keeping his eyes one the road.

Wolf was impressed: when MI6 had asked for his help, they had almost been begging. But Yassen acted as if it wouldn't make any difference either way, and like it was an honour to even be considered. Wolf supposed that, actually, it was. There was no way he would have been asked before this mission started, but there was a mutual respect between them now.

All the same, some base part of his being rebelled against the idea; he wasn't cut out to be a killer, especially not an assassin. He would kill to help others, but killing for money just seemed… wrong. But the larger part of him, the part that had enjoyed the time with Yassen tracking Skinner, suppressed it, smothering it into silence. For now.

"That… would work," he replied carefully.

Yassen glanced his way, a small smile flitting over his lips for a brief moment. Wolf replied with a bigger smile, still numb from his decision. What had he gotten himself into?

They drove back to Exeter in silence after that. Neither one wanted to be the first to speak. They stopped near to the city centre and Yassen switched off the Aston's engine. A few girls walked by, gazing admiringly at the car.

"You're sure you want to work with me?" Yassen asked.

"Yeah, pretty much. I could get used to the whole 'living on the edge' thing," Wolf answered with a grin.

"You'll have to kill people, be an assassin," Yassen cautioned, but instantly regretted it as Wolf burst out laughing.

"And that's a problem? What do you think MI6 wanted me to do to Skinner? Give him a hug?" His voice dripped sarcasm and he rolled his eyes.

"So you're sure you want to do this?"

"Yes," Wolf said decisively, nodding his head sharply for emphasis.

"Excellent." Yassen smiled, a genuine smile that reached his eyes. Wolf blinked in shock. "Anyway, we can't hang around here all day. You need medical attention, I'm not going to let that get infected after all the trouble I've had keeping you safe. Plus, I don't want my partner to be a cripple.

"And I suppose I'd better send a message to SCORPIA telling them that I resign."

As he eased his arm out, wincing as the pain flared up again, Wolf nodded slowly. Yassen watched him concernedly, wondering if the wound had indeed become infected.

"It's ok," Wolf assured him.

The Russian shrugged and turned back to the wheel.

"Let's get you to hospital," he said, starting the engine. It roared into life and Yassen steered them skilfully out of the car park and onto the main road again.

Wolf wondered just what he was getting into.


End file.
